Fifty Shades Freed needs a severe spanking, there's more sexual control freakery with a dash of haberdashery in Phantom Thread, and some straightforward violence in the TV sequel to Neo-Nazi thriller Romper Stomper

Fifty Shades Freed

Freed must be what Jamie Dornan and Dakota Johnson must be feeling now that their shackles to this clunking S&M franchise have been loosened.

The concluding part of the trilogy is about as sexy as a trip to the stationery department of a WH Smith. In Skegness.

The crux of this failure, as ever, is the character of Christian Grey. To put it bluntly, he's a knobhead with no redeeming features. Even his wealth only succeeds in highlighting his utter charmlessness.

Dornan famously made women quiver with a mixture of fear and lust as a warped, controlling psycho in The Fall.

So it's all the more baffling how his Christian Grey is just a repellent, unappealing creep. The weight of the character's dislikeability even seems to knock Dornan himself down a few notches on the handsome scale.

He's just bland, utterly vanilla in a role that's supposed to be tantalising and dangerous. You just hope the Northern Irishman is very shrewd or lucky in picking his next major role: it would be a shame if the career of someone so talented and likeable were strangled by this abysmal role.

Dakota Johnson fares a little better as Anastasia but isn't served well by the dialogue or the plot, such as it is.

Nothing much of interest happens between the sex scenes that crop up randomly seemingly every four minutes. It all feels so... perfunctory.

The closest it gets to tension is a car chase scene involving Mr and Mrs Grey that would have benefited from a fatal crash.

He's just bland, utterly vanilla in a role that's supposed to be tantalising and dangerous

You feel that missed opportunity to put everyone out of their misery all the more when Christian starts singing at the piano in one scene.

It's an awful film about an awful relationship between two awful people, and worst of all is the awful message it sends to more impressionable viewers about what sort of relationship they should aspire to.

If you want to indulge in some real sadomasochism, then tie your other half up and force them - and yourself - to sit through this turgid pile of toss.

Just remember the safeword. You'll probably need it after ten minutes or so.

In her place he picks up Alma (Vicky Krieps), a waitress at a seaside hotel. She is a little bemused to be taken back to his place only to be told in great detail about his dead mother then measured up for a dress, with Cyril taking down the measurements.

Alma is moved to his London home where legions of dressmakers fawn to Reynolds’ commands.

She is meant to be another malleable female.

But she is made of sterner stuff than Reynolds thinks.

★★★★☆

Lucy Shersby

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This time we follow Kane (Toby Wallace), a young bruiser who's fast-rising up the ranks of the far-Right.

The 6-part series has proved almost as controversial as its predecessor, with some critics refusing to review it for fear of legitimising the racist views of many of the characters.

It's hard to see any danger of that: the vile ideology of the thugs is held up for what it is. It's just that the characters are not cardboard cutout villains - they're more rounded and, as we spend the bulk of the series in their company, the drama is all the better for it.

Wallace is captivating as Kane, combining brutality and puppy-eyed vulnerability, while Lachy Hulme is a tour de force as the Neo-Nazis' twisted but charismatic leader.

Watch the full trailer for Romper Stomper

Markella Kavenagh is infectious as Kane's wildcat of a little sister, and David Wenham (Lord Of The Rings' Faramir) oozes sinister smarminess as a far-Right talk show host.

While there are a few characters from the original who make a reappearance, you don't need to have watched it to enjoy this. However, it will add deeper appreciation to a couple of plotlines if you have.

It's mostly well-paced, with some genuine shocks and well worth a watch. The soundtrack, mainly a throbbing brass reverb, gets under your skin and builds the tension superbly.

That's not to say the series is perfect: while it starts off suggesting it might have something interesting to say about the far-Left activists who clash with Kane's gang, it ends up ducking the subject.

And while Kane's moody silence makes him unpredictable, it also leaves the decisions he takes feeling unanchored - we just don't understand his thought processes at some points which deprives his actions of weight.

Several plotlines are left unresolved by the end, so fingers crossed there's a second season to tie things up.